


An Autumn Visit

by bihershel



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Tragedy, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Professor Layton spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25097554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bihershel/pseuds/bihershel
Summary: After finding out Layton's girlfriend has died, Clark visits Layton for the first time in several years.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

Early one autumn morning, Clark knocked at the wooden door of Layton's apartment. He stood there for a few silent minutes, checking his watch occasionally. Usually, it would be rude to keep someone waiting for that long, but considering the circumstances, Clark didn't mind waiting. It was only a matter of time.  
He hadn't seen Layton in a few years. They spent a lot of time together in university, but since then, they'd gone separate paths. Despite that, Layton had always kept in touch by mail. One day, Layton's letters stopped coming. Then, shortly after, he read about a recent time travel experiment that failed, killing many people in the explosion. Clark recognized Layton's girlfriend in the paper. He had met her once before, but they hadn't been particularly close. But he knew for certain that it was her. Clark decided to pay his old friend a visit.

  
_He was going to propose to her..._ he thought to himself, still standing at the doorstep. It was getting a little chilly, and Clark considered turning around and leaving-- until the door opened.  
To put it bluntly, Hershel looked like a mess. Normally, Layton looked put-together, but now he looked haggard and unruly. Dark circles hung heavy around his eyes. And... was that a four o-clock shadow? Layton wasn't saying anything, but he did look slightly surprised. Clark was getting more and more worried by the minute, but he couldn't show it, lest the situation become more tense than it already was. Neither of them knew what to say. Clark cleared his throat.  
Hershel finally spoke. "Can I... help you with something?"  
Clark mumbled,"Oh, um... yes. It's a little early to be... drinking, isn't it?"  
"What do you..." Both men looked at the wine bottle that Layton was holding. "Right, why don't you come on in? Forgive me for not asking sooner."

Clark seated himself awkwardly on Layton's sofa, in the one spot that was relatively cleaner than the rest of the apartment. Hershel was never the epitome of organization, but Clark never remembered the clutter getting this bad when they studied together. Hershel sat across from Clark, and there was a moment when both of them looked at each other, not knowing what to say. They both knew why Clark was here, so why was it so hard to talk? Eventually, Clark began to speak.  
"I know it's been a few years. I never thought we'd meet again like... this." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. "I read what happened in the newspaper. I thought I might pay you a visit."  
Layton said nothing, but took another sip from the bottle in his hand. He looked hollow. Like he wasn't even there. It was clear Claire's death had taken a toll on him. He went to take another sip, but not before Clark grabbed his hand, wrenching the bottle out of his grasp. The bottle shattered on the ground, and the smell of cheap wine began to permeate the stuffy apartment.  
"What the hell are you doing, Clark?" Layton said, aggravated. "Unhand me at once!"  
Clark refused to let go of Layton's wrist. "Hershel, you can't do this to yourself again. This is exactly how you were when I first met you, and I know something happened then, too. You never talked about it, and you seemed to get over it, but I know it consumed you on the inside. And now, something's happened again... and I can't bear to see you like that again, Hershel! I can't! Do you think the people you lost would want to see you like this?" Despite trying his best, Clark felt his emotions well up inside of him, threatening to spill out like the cheap wine on his friend's floor. He was breathing heavily now, and his knuckles turned white as he clutched Hershel's wrist, as if letting go of him would mean losing his dearest friend for good.  
"Clark... it hurts. You're hurting me, Clark," Layton whispered. Clark didn't immediately respond, as he seemed to be too deep in his own emotions. He was nearly crushing Layton's wrist in his grip.  
Clark finally realized what he was doing, and quickly let go of Hershel's wrist. He began to apologize: "Oh God, I'm sorry, something must have come over me--" but his sentence was interrupted by Hershel, who was sobbing gently now. _Oh God, now I've really done it,_ Clark thought to himself. He put his hand on Hershel's shoulder, gently this time. "Hershel..." Hershel wrapped his arms around Clark, and started to cry harder.  
"Why couldn't I do anything, Clark? Why did she have to go?" Hershel asked, sobbing into Clark's shoulder.  
Clark hugged Hershel back in an attempt to reassure the other man. "It's okay, Hershel, just... It's going to be okay." They both knew those weren't the right words, but Clark didn't know what to say. He was at a loss. He sat there, with Hershel crying into his shoulder, and neither of them said anything for a while. And for the time being, that felt like enough.


	2. Melancholy in a Cup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Hershel calms down, Clark reveals that he has a gift for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my personal headcanon for why Layton is such a tea aficionado,, I think it does make sense in canon but it is still a little sad.

After a while, Hershel finally calmed down. _He still doesn't look great, but at least he looks a little better now that he's cried things out,_ Clark thought. He stood up, gently removing himself from Hershel, who looked exhausted from crying so hard. Clark said, "I came here to check on you, but I also brought you something."   
"You... brought me something?"   
"Yes," Clark said, procuring a small package from his bag. "I thought you might appreciate it. Why don't you open it?"   
Hershel fumbled with the brown wrapping paper, and opened the package. "A tea set?"   
"Yes, it is. To be frank with you, Hershel, you don't have any taste when it comes to alcohol. So I got you this tea set, along with an assortment of tea to go with it. I hoped it would be better for your nerves than... that," Clark said, gesturing towards the abandoned puddle of liquor. "How about you choose something from there, and I'll make it for you."  
"That's very kind of you, but I couldn't possibly--"  
"No, I insist, Hershel. It is the very least I could do for you."   
Hershel gave up. "Alright. Some chamomile tea would be nice, if you could. My mother always made it for me when I was sick," he trailed off. "I should get the kettle--"  
"No, you stay right where you are, Hershel. I'm taking care of you today! Tell me where it is, and I'll figure out the rest from there."  
Hershel let out a sigh, and told him where it was. "Thank you for doing this," he said quietly. However, Clark was already busy at work in the kitchen. A few minutes later, he came in with a tray, and poured out a cup for Hershel. The simple aroma from the tea alone made the atmosphere that much calmer.   
"Do you take milk or sugar in your tea?" Clark inquired.   
"No, this will do nicely," Layton responded. "Thank you so much, Clark. This tea... it reminds me of a simpler time." He cradled the cup in his hands, and took a small sip. He looked very vulnerable in that moment, but Clark could tell he was recovering, if only a little bit.   
"That's good," Clark said as he poured himself a cup. The two sat in silence for a while, but it wasn't the same as the tense silence from before. Perhaps something in the tea cleared the air.   
Clark tidied up the apartment a little before he had to go back home, leaving Hershel all alone in his apartment. He opened the curtains, letting the natural light fill the small room. "I'm sorry, I'm sure you wouldn't like to see me like this... Randall. Claire. I feel so lost without you. But I promise I will keep going... for you. So wherever you are, I hope you can look at me and be proud of how far I've come. I hope that we can meet once again, even if it takes forever." 


End file.
